Lavandula Angustifolia
by et cetera et cetera
Summary: He woke up with a smell on his pillow and vowed to find its source. Leave it to Nodame to trigger his sense and other . . . feelings.


**A/N: **So, I'm definitely writing this in retaliation to Chiaki's grievous behavior in the most recent chapter (123). Though set in the Paris arc, there are no spoilers, so fear not! I hope you enjoy this story I slaved all night over (I refused to rest until I shelled out everything I could possibly write at 4 a.m.). It was either that or have Chiaki and Nodame dance around in my head as I slept.  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Nodame Cantabile_.

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**Lavandula Angustifolia  
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Chiaki's nose twitched.

He turned over, already feeling a sliver of light attacking his head as it snaked its way between the curtains. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately, but he'll be damned if he misses any chance to sleep in.

However, as he burrowed his face into the adjacent pillow and inhaled, his nose twitched again.

His pillow. It smelled.

Chiaki popped an eye open and raised his head, looking down at the suspect article.

It didn't _look_ weird. He sniffed again and blinked, wondering where that smell could have come from. It was faint, but strong enough to now stick in his head as he tried to figure out what it was and where it came from. He knew he couldn't go back to sleep, not with _that_ in his face.

Rolling over onto his back, Chiaki glanced over at the time and frowned. It was already 9:30. He overslept his usual waking time by two hours, which should be enough time for leisure sleep.

With no other choice and the day already seeping into his body and slowly waking dormant muscles, Chiaki got up from bed and began his day. He did feel better after being able to sleep in, though.

When he entered the kitchen, showered and changed, he half expected Nodame to be sitting there with a pout and gleaming eyes. Scratching his head at her absence, he remembered that she should already be at school at this time. As Chiaki made a pot of coffee, he noticed a piece of pink paper tacked onto his refrigerator. The oversized hearts and rainbows gave away their author's identity.

With a dutiful sip in order to take in whatever extraordinariness Nodame would cause—even without physically being there—he read her note:

_Shinichi-kun,_

_By the time you read this note, Nodame will already be at school working hard so we can finally become a golden pair ;D__ I didn't want to wake you because you looked like a cute little boy in your sleep, and you've been getting home late recently. Have a good day and prepare a nice romantic dinner for us tonight! I want alfredo pesto!_

_Love,_

_Nodame_

He was tempted to throw it away, but if she came over later and asked him if he read her note, he couldn't very well lie to her. And there was the fact that she was especially considerate today for not barging into his room with demands of breakfast or a goodbye kiss.

Chiaki decided to not dwell on it, but briefly wondered how far into the Weirdo Forest he was. It _was_ his complete doing for making it through the brightly garnished threshold, however.

He lightly touched her signature and allowed the small smile to emerge. Well, he decided, it'd be pointless to back out now, seeing as it took so long to get to where they were now. Though he still didn't know where their exact place was in this odd relationship, he was content. And that was enough.

With one glance in the refrigerator that Nodame had successfully emptied out in the few days she commandeered the kitchen for experimental dishes, Chiaki decided to shop for groceries that will last them for at least a month.

Grabbing his jacket and wallet, he set off on a culinary mission with tonight's menu suspiciously centering on Italian cuisine.

& & &

Chiaki thought that the scent of onions and fresh leeks would deter the notorious smell from his nose, but there it was, tinting even the strongest of garlic roots with its haunting fragrance. After filling his nose with various odorous foods, he concluded that the smell was permeating his mind, and that there wasn't anything he could physically do to counter it. With a sigh he tried to shop as best he can with a slight distraction.

Chiaki liked grocery shopping. Since arriving here in Paris nearly three years ago and discovering the long _rues_ of vendors in the open markets, he marveled at the quick business of merchants selling five pounds of bleeding flanks and veteran customers haggling for a reasonable price. He himself learned the ways of negotiating with the vendors, blending in with the other Parisian shoppers. He liked being in control of what he shopped for, and getting perfection in ripe tomatoes and crisp lettuce. It was the easiest controllable thing in his life; he had to work on his orchestra and even his own relationship.

After getting a full supply of meats and produce, Chiaki spent the rest of the morning leisurely strolling down the street, bags in each hand as he mused over what to cook for the next couple days.

In the middle of thinking about a good wine to pick up, the smell from this morning came back to him with a stronger presence. He paused and tried to figure it out, the wine disregarded as he continued walking.

It was floral, and he realized its relaxing quality, thinking back to this morning where it almost lulled him back to sleep. A comforting smell, Chiaki thought that he wouldn't mind waking up to it every morning. It could have been a perfumed smell, as it was something decidedly feminine. Maybe it was Nodame . . . ?

As quick as that suggestion came, he quickly ruled Nodame out for being remotely concerned with her hygiene. When it came to perfuming herself to enhance her femininity, she was as apt as a toddler coming in contact with an unscrewed bottle of baby powder. Either it was too much or none at all. And, she hadn't been anywhere near his bed or pillow since he returned from tour a week ago. Surely a scent would have faded by now, right?

He didn't realize that the scent led him down near the bouquet stands until he suddenly stopped, seized by an intense onslaught of the same exact smell. He speculated that he had finally gotten its origin, until he looked around and saw an array of floral bunches around him.

So, he was right. The smell _did_ come from a flower.

Chiaki didn't dare to look foolish while sticking his head in every bouquet, so he subtly caught whiffs of their various scents as he pretended to be a normal man examining the quality of the petals, or whatever men did when picking out a bouquet for their lady love.

Unfortunately being the only customer at the moment, Chiaki didn't have the luxury of getting by unnoticed. His perusal was witnessed by the old man manning the stand, and he felt a bit uncomfortable and had the inkling feeling that he had been found out.

After smelling the tenth bouquet with no luck and now a slightly congested nose, he straightened with a sigh. It wasn't roses (all six varieties), gardenias, tuberoses, lilies, or daffodils. He found it slightly disconcerting that despite sniffing all those flowers, he still couldn't rid of this morning's smell.

Then suddenly a bushel of purple materialized in front of him and it took half a heartbeat's time to realize that this was The Smell.

He stepped back and peered around the cellophane-wrapped bouquet at the man who was holding it with a telling look on his face. Chiaki blinked and after a moment took hold of the bouquet, taking a deep smell. The scent in his brain and the scent under his nose matched perfectly, entwining memory with verity and filling every part of him with a strangely ardent tinge.

"_Lavandula,_" the voice behind all the flowers said.

Chiaki looked up from the bouquet. "What?"

The old man gestured to the flowers. "Lavandula. _Lavender_."

"Oh," Chiaki said, now recognizing its pale shade.

"Great flower for cooking. Sweet. And for medicine, as an herb. Also used in aromatherapy."

But Chiaki wasn't concerned with its uses. He wanted to know how and why it was on his pillow this morning. Maybe he had caught its smell the night before, and it stuck with him through the night, attacking on his senses when he came to full consciousness. He still was convinced that Nodame had _nothing_ to do with this.

"You like?"

He looked back at the cluster of purple spikes and couldn't think of a reason to say no. Now that he finally found it, he didn't see why he had to leave it, only to have its scent trail him for the rest of the day. Besides, Nodame would surely enjoy receiving a surprise.

. . . Ahem. Maybe he'll just stick it on the dining table and proclaim that it's a new centerpiece.

Making a decision, Chiaki gave the old vendor a nod. "How much?"

"For you? Fifteen euro!"

He paid the vendor and gently placed it next to a freshly baked baguette on the top of one of the bags. Before he left however, the vendor called out to him.

"Monsieur! That is a good flower to give to your girlfriend! She'll be happy!"

Chiaki frowned and walked away, not conceding to the romantic qualities of bringing a fragrant bouquet home where his girlfriend (yes, he finally regarded Nodame as such) would undoubtedly gush at his gift-giving skills that he was known to be sparse in.

Table centerpiece it is.

& & &

By the time Chiaki returned home, he was in a relatively good mood. He accredited it to the hearsay that lavenders have a calming attribute, leaving a calm and balanced nature in its wake.

He was still baffled by its appearance in his bed, but he was really just glad that he found the source. Different explanations can stem from that, but for now he was enjoying the scent sweetly permeating the air around him.

Which is why, upon arriving into his unlocked apartment, he was surprised to find that the smell didn't follow him into his home.

He came home to find the slight scent of lavender already inside; he'd know its scent anywhere after spending a few hours with it so close.

Before _raison d'êtres _formed in his brain, the door to the bathroom opened and Nodame came out from the hall a moment later, presumably called forth by the closing of the front door. She had a warm smile on her face that seemed to glow brighter as she stepped closer to Chiaki's frozen frame by the door, bags still in his hands.

"Senpai? What's wrong?" She faltered in her steps, aware of his lack of movement. She held onto the wall panel to keep her balance.

Chiaki found that speech was a long-forming process and it took him a while to make words around the clump blocking his brain. "Nodame? Wha—"

She took his first spoken—though a bit hesitant—words as a sign that he was functioning normally and launched towards him, gripping the open lapel of his jacket in excitement.

"Auclair-sensei said that since I've now mastered Beethoven, I can start on Tchaikovsky! I got the sheet music to his Piano Conceto and I wanted you to hear me play!" she drabbled on breathlessly, eyes gleaming.

She was talking yes, but Chiaki found that his attention was anywhere _but_ her words. He was focused on the swinging tendrils of her loose hair, dampened by the bath she had a little while ago. It wasn't so much the (clean) status of her hair that alerted him to the clear explanation that eluded him for most of the morning and early afternoon as it was what came _from_ her hair.

With every word punctuated by a bounce of her head, Chiaki became more aware of the pressing realization until he had to stop her movement in order to halt the sensation the scent of her shampoo was doing to his nose and consequentially, his brain.

"Nodame," he interrupted as she spoke about the different movements of the new piece. He held onto her shoulders and she immediately stopped talking, pursing her lips together with a curious tilt of her head, which then led Chiaki's thoughts to her slightly pouted lips and the instant urge to press his own against them.

He cleared his throat and tried again. "Did you take a bath?"

Nodame nodded. "I've been washing my hair every night now!"

He didn't know how he never noticed before, but there it was now, the sweet and fluttery smell of lavender mixing in with another pleasant smell that was strictly no one else's but Nodame. He then didn't know how he never noticed its intoxicating effect before.

Going in a different approach in order to steer from abruptly quixotic thinking, he asked, "Did you sleep in my bed while I was gone?"

She nodded and cast her eyes downward guiltily, though Chiaki now didn't see how she should be remorseful for that at all.

"It was only after you were gone for two weeks. I was missing you, and I had trouble sleeping, so I came here and stayed the night."

Quickly doing the deductions, Chiaki reasoned that Nodame sleeping in his bed once wouldn't have a smell stay for so long. "Did you sleep there more than once?"

Nodame bit her lip and nodded again, looking as if she was getting scolded for playing incorrectly. Chiaki was a bit annoyed that she didn't take responsibility for the role she's been forcing upon him for years. If she's going to be a girlfriend missing her boyfriend, she shouldn't be guilty at having done so.

Chiaki sighed. He somehow felt that he should be angry with her for trespassing without permission, but he found that pretending to not appreciate her affection was more tiring than admitting the pleasant thought of having someone miss him. His hold on her shoulders loosened and he looked down at her, wondering how she came to affect him so much, and making these feelings bubble up to his surface over a _smell_. She definitely was something else.

Then, in a swift and unforeseeable move, he pulled Nodame to him and bent his head down to rest in the crook between her neck and slightly exposed shoulders. She was startled for a moment, but he felt her relax and eventually slide her arms beneath his jacket around his back.

"Shinichi-kun?" she quietly asked.

Unburdened by the pride of being collected and indifferent around Nodame, as she seemingly removed all pretenses from him and left him bare and just so _full_ of emotion, he dared to confess to her.

"You . . . smell really nice."

He screwed his eyes shut and waited for the bubbling effect his flattery would have on her, but instead he felt Nodame press closer to him as she leaned her head inwards towards his neck. He swore his heart seized when he felt her lips barely skim over the skin above his collarbone.

"If I smell like this every night, will you do this too? I like it when you hug me like this," she murmured, her breath teasing the already hot skin of his throat.

Chiaki then declared that the scent of lavender did something strange to his brain and begrudgingly, his hormones. He liked the smell of it on his pillow this morning, and realized that it would eventually completely fade out unless he remedied the situation. And what better way than to have the source right there? He knew that having Nodame sleep next to him would benefit both parties, since he used to be hard-pressed into letting her stay the night and fought off her infuriating temptations.

He smiled into her hair and grazed the line of vertebrae at the back of her neck, feeling Nodame's shiver soon after.

"I've got a better idea."

From that day forward Chiaki acknowledged that though not universally recognized, lavenders did have an aphrodisiac quality about them.

And who would've thought they were Nodame's favorite flowers?


End file.
